


Experimentation

by EllieL



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Historical Dress, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shadow of Night, Smut, Time Travel, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL





	Experimentation

“You know,” Matthew growled as he ripped at the lacing of her gown, “I don’t recall putting quite this much time and effort into removing ladies’ garments when I was here before. Nudity was the exception rather than the rule.”

She released her grasp on the bedpost and turned to look at him. “You want to have sex still dressed?”

His hand slid slowly, so slowly, up her velvet sleeve. “Too many layers. Too long to redress. Especially in the middle of the afternoon like this. There was a long stretch of time--”

“Matthew?” Diana knew he didn’t like talking about his past, hated talking about past lovers. “Are you telling me you spent several centuries without seeing a woman naked?”

“As you surely know,” he whispered into her ear, as his fingers traced the edges of her collar, “there were several centuries where women rarely  _ were _ naked. Or anyone, really. Very bleak times.”

“Well, I have been getting the full historical experience while we’ve been living here. Maybe in the interest of historical accuracy, we should figure out how to make this work with the bum roll still in place.”

He stepped forward again, pushing them both back against the bed. “It may take a bit of adjustment in positioning, but I belive the strategy is coming back to me.”

When his lips found hers, she stopped worrying about all the layers of clothing between them and lost herself in him. It had always felt right with him as it never had with anyone else. So she trusted him when he pulled away and gently spun her around like a dancer. Then his arms wrapped around her from behind, the solid wall of his chest against her back, even through all their layers of linen and velvet.

His hands slid up the front of her dress, teasing bits of intricate lacing but not undoing it. The pressure changes around her torso caused her to breathe in panting little gasps, though, and she could feel herself melting back against him, surrendering to the direction of his hands. They ghosted over her breasts now, encased in too much fabric to be overly sensitive to his touch; when they reached the sheerer fabric above her bustline, however, her skin began to tingle, feeling fevered under his fingers.

Long fingers continued their steady exploration, across her bared clavicle, heat flushing her skin, and finally resting on her shoulders for just a moment, kneading, easing the weight of all the garments she wore. Then he shifted his hands, and gave her a push forward and down. Understanding dawned, and she leaned down to brace her hands on the furs covering the bed.

At the same time, he crouched down, lifting up all her various skirts from ankle to her waist, folding them up over themselves, over her bum roll. Hands skimmed back down, over now-bare skin. She should have felt exposed, bare from knee to ass, several pounds of skirts weighting her down to the bed; she would have, with anyone but him, would have felt completely ridiculous. But his touch was reverent, hypnotic, tracing over her skin in whorls and caresses.

When his fingers trailed back up her thighs and between her legs, she sighed in pleasure. He’d always known exactly how to touch her, how to reduce her to a moaning puddle of readiness for him. His aim was no less true this time, for all the unusualness of their positioning; they’d only made love this way a few times, as he always wanted to see her, kiss her. This did feel more impersonal, pressed into the bedding away from him, but there was nothing impersonal about the flick of his thumb across her clit once, twice, before settling into the circular stroking she prefered.

It was an awkward angle, though, with him behind her, and skirts gathered in front of her. Soon his hand disappeared, and she moaned until she heard the rustle of fabric and pop of buttons behind her and felt him slip between her legs, the head of his cock replacing his fingers in teasing over her clit. She sighed in delight as he stroked slowly through her desire, and leaned down to wrap himself around her again. Gently, he pushed down on her arms.

“It will be easier if you rest on your forearms,” he whispered into her ear before tracing his lips down the arc of her neck.

She keened, quivering with desire but restrained by her clothing and the bed and his solid form around her. He kissed the line of her shoulder a few times before pulling away, a bit, faltering in the steady brush of his cock against her before pulling it away entirely. She cried out in response to the loss, until he guided himself slowly into her, and the cry became one of fulfillment. 

Though Matthew might not prefer this position, Diana enjoyed it. Like this, he seemed to hit all of her most sensitive spots as he moved with in her, his own groan of pleasure answering hers. All the layers of clothing and the high bed made this position fairly comfortable for her, too, though her arms were restricted and she was without much leverage to respond to his rhythmic hips with her own. Yet he seemed more than willing to make up for this, preternatural movement making it no sacrifice to give her what she needed. 

In fact, he always seemed to know just what she needed. Without breaking his steady stroke into her, he managed to pull her back and lift her up just enough to snake his hand around her hip and find her clit again, providing the only stimulus that had been lacking. She moaned in pleasure and relief at that last bit of need being met, feeling her orgasm building, her body beginning to tremble as his thumb circled, his hips snapped against her ass. The plush bedding muffled her cries, but he heard them all the same, and redoubled his efforts.

It didn’t take long for release to wash over her, his name echoing from her lips into the velvet surrounding them and her body trembling then contracting. Behind her, he groaned and cried out her name as well, pulling her hips back against him as he found his own release. 

His hands slid around her, embracing her as best he could. She knew he preferred to see her, to be able to pull her close and hold her, and their positioning and the layers between them prevented that, even as his strong form arched over her, lips finding the back of her neck. Now she wished for that, too, wished she could kiss him in return.

Instead, she settled for pressing up onto her hands again and turning her head with a saucy smile. “That was an interesting experiment in period-typical sex.”

“Not to your liking?” He looked briefly worried before managing to kiss the edge of her jaw.

She shook her head, carefully enjoy not to disrupt his kiss. “Too much clothing, not enough skin. Though it is much faster to leave everything on. Maybe we can do further midday experiments. See if there are better options.”

Caressing her still-bared ass, he pulled back from her and rebuttoned his breeches. “You’re clever enough I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

Twisting, she stood up and shook out her skirts. There was something to be said with looking no worse for their dalliance, in only a few moments time. Still smiling, she tipped her head up to kiss him properly this time, lingering and slow.

“I have a few hypotheses. Perhaps you’d be willing to assist me in experimentation over the next few days?” she asked as she broke away.

“I have always held a great deal of interest in the scientific process. Anything I can to do aid the lady.” He graced her with a mock bow and a twinkle in his eye. “So long as she is willing to be naked in my bed every evening.”

“Well, we need control data, after all.” She winked at him before adjusting her bodice a bit. Just as she was stepping forward to kiss him again, a loud rapping at their bedroom door made her jump back.

“Master Roydon? Are you in there sir? There’s a messenger for you!”

He sighed and shook his head before answering. “I will be down anon.” 

Kissing her once more, his hands roamed over her bodice again, teasing at the lacings and the edge of her bosom. Then he broke away from her, regret clear in his eyes, and straightened his own garments once more.

“Until tonight, Mistress Roydon.”

She watched him slip silently from their chamber, the door not even creaking behind him. Taking a moment to make sure her skirts were straight, she gave them one more shake, then followed out the door a minute later. It swung shut behind her with a creak as she began making plans for later that night.


End file.
